


Towards the distant dawn

by LittleLinor



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 10:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17916896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: Luard wakes up to something he hadn't even thought to be scared of





	Towards the distant dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for some violence and, well, everything related to Luard's backstory and their lore plotline

Luard wakes up with something hard yet caving in his hand.  
It's dark, and his head is roaring with fear he can't remember the cause of, and he doesn't remember where he is or what just happened that made him grab this thing, he just knows cold sweat is running down his face and back and his thighs are rubbing painfully against scales and under his hand something moves, slowly, expanding just slightly in his vice grip and collapsing back and  
He gasps, lets go of Shiranui's throat, and curls up on himself, pressing his hands to his mouth to stop himself from being sick.  
_No… no no no…_  
For several long moments, nothing moves save for the gagging jerks of his body, still trying to reject a meal he hasn't even eaten.  
_It's night_ , he tries to tell himself, frantic. _It's night and I was sleeping. It's just a dream._  
But what isn't a dream is his hand on Shiranui's throat, his hand tightening around him with the intent to kill, before he'd even woken up.  
_I knew I should never have agreed to this._  
He should have known that he was too dangerous. But he'd thought that if he kept himself carefully in check, maybe they could do this. Maybe he could allow himself to have this.  
And now that arrogance almost cost Shiranui his life.  
He shakes.  
“Luard.”  
Shiranui's voice is soft but firm, a tone that normally calms him down almost instantly. But there's no calming dow from this. Where was his calming aura a moment ago when he was trying to strangle him in his sleep? Why didn't he stop him?  
_Could_ he even stop him?  
“Luard… look at me.”  
He reaches for his face, and Luard recoils, scrambling back on the futon and almost falling as he reaches the edge and its small but sudden drop.  
“No,” he wheezes, almost inaudible. His throat feels raw, like trying to snarl after too long without water. He'd almost forgotten the feeling. “I...” Shiranui's hand (his only hand, his _only hand_ ) enters his field of vision and he chokes and scrambles to his feet. “I need some air.”

He's out before Shiranui can stop him, before he can stop himself, before he can go mad again. Outside, the village is silent, although not completely dark; there's fires in the distance, casting light on the ground before the village walls. Lights to expose intruders coming from outside. But no one thinks to find the danger inside. Even in a village of ninja, they're more focused on invasion than treason.  
They even accepted him. Him, the murderer, him the hostage taker, him the tool of destruction. Him, who cost their former leader and beloved mentor his arm and leg.  
And how does he repay them?  
“Luard.”  
He jumps. His mind, as he stares up at Shiranui's face, is still cycling endlessly with guilt and panic. But his body, in the cool, open night air, seems to have calmed down. Somewhat.  
He can think coherently, at least.  
“… I'm sorry,” is all he can force out. Shiranui doesn't say anything; he looks away and continues. “I should leave.”  
“Luard, you could count on your fingers the number of people in this village who don't wake up with nightmares. And most of them are children.”  
“ _I almost killed you._ ”  
Had used dragshift while unconscious, even. How could he wield magic in his _sleep_? What else could he do? Set the village on fire? Will he wake up one day to an inferno and the dying screams of those he's started to see as his family?  
He clenches the still-transformed hand, digging its claws into himself. It makes him want to tear his own hand off, but there's no way he'd be able to reverse the dragshift in the state he's in.  
“You didn't.”  
“I could have!”  
“You didn't.”  
“I was about to!!”  
“But you didn't.”  
“ _Shiranui!_ ”  
“Luard. _Listen to me_.”  
Despite its evenness, there's a roaring quality to it, a slight rumbling that reaches his voice. Luard shuts up, winded.  
“I woke up before you did,” Shiranui tells him, calm. “I could have fought you off, but I thought it would be more of a risk. Retaliating could have led to escalation.”  
“What's more escalating than already trying to choke you!?”  
“I gave myself a few seconds, and wagered that you would stop. And you did.”  
“Only because I woke up!”  
“No. You stopped before.” The roaring in Luard's ears and head stops, leaving him empty and ready to collapse.  
“… huh?”  
“You started squeezing. And then the light in your eyes changed, and you looked paralysed with fear. You stopped squeezing. And then, only then, you woke up.”  
“… oh.”  
He reaches to rest his hand on Luard's head, a familiar gesture, and Luard finds himself able to allow him. Barely.  
“You are not as dangerous as you think.”  
“I'm not sure about that,” Luard chokes. “Maybe I stopped this time, but what about the next?”  
“That you stopped even in your sleep says more than you think.” He pulls his arm back, but comes to stand next to Luard instead, looking out at the village and the night sky together. “Whatever that nightmare made you see, you recognised me even through sleep and the image you were seeing, and stopped yourself. This wasn't even a conscious resistance to unconscious desires. It reveals, quite clearly, that you _don't_ want me to be harmed. Even on a deep and unconscious level.” He doesn't look back down, but a smile creeps into his voice. “In fact, I would say that you might be the safest person for me to be around.”  
“Y-you're pushing it,” Luard stammers, still half-choking on it.  
“Hmm, you're right. You _do_ have a talent for attracting trouble, that compensates for it somewhat.”  
“That's not what I meant,” he mutters, but a hint of laughter slips into his voice unbidden at his partner's calm humour.  
Silently, Shiranui wraps his arm around his shoulders from the side, pulling him to lean against him.  
“I trust you, Luard,” he says quietly. “You are not a slave to the horrors of your past. No matter how much space they try to take in your head, they won't overcome the core beliefs that define who you are.”  
“Wish I could be this confident,” he mutters, but Shiranui's arm on his shoulders is safely, delightfully heavy, and he leans against him with relief, taking comfort in how solid he is, how strong despite the missing limbs.  
“That's what I'm here for,” Shiranui answers, lightly teasing yet perfectly serious. “You wouldn't think so, but much of a leader's job is actually to look confident enough while taking scary decisions that all those following can feel confident by extension. A lot of the time, it comes down to pretending. Spreading true confidence is easier.” He smiles. “I may no longer be leader, but some things never quite disappear.”  
“You still are in everyone's heart and you know it,” Luard snorts, but it's an amused one this time.  
Shiranui, to his relief, chuckles, and the sound makes his chest flutter in a way that is no longer due to fear.  
“If I can use that to protect those I hold dear, then I'll deal with it.”  
“Why'd you have to put it like _that_ ,” Luard whines, turning and pressing his face into Shiranui's chest. The pleased rumble he can feel against his cheek doesn't help his embarrassment any. “… hey, Shiranui?” he asks, more seriously.  
“Yes?”  
“… promise me. If you ever have a single doubt that I'll stop on my own? Stop me. Don't let me harm you, or anyone else. Promise me.”  
“...I promise.”  
Luard lets out a sigh. It's so heavy with all the apprehension and fear and doubts that had been paralysing him that he almost collapses with relief when it leaves his body.  
“… thank you.” He chuckles. “… I'll just have to trust you, then. Just like you do me, I suppose.”  
“Precisely.” He bends down to kiss the top of Luard's head, and suddenly the night doesn't feel as cool anymore. “Now, shall we get back to bed? Lack of sleep doesn't make for stable emotions either.”  
Luard's heart is warm.  
“… yeah. Let's go.”


End file.
